


Safe at Last?

by AimlesslyAinley



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Crying, Drinking, Gen, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Slight out of character, Spoilers, Spoilers for seasons 1-3, post S04E01 Rescue, remembering lost ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27078643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AimlesslyAinley/pseuds/AimlesslyAinley
Summary: Occurs directly after the Season 4 opener episode "Rescue", a speculative and mostly self indulgent story.**THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SEASONS 1-3**Vila and Avon have lost the only group of people they've been close to since their failed prison sentence on Cygnus Alpha, a few years has felt like lifetimes. Remembering the past and cherishing what remains.
Kudos: 3





	Safe at Last?

It was one of the first nights the team had started staying at the base on Xenon, the first time in who knows how long that any of them got to rest. They had just lost the Liberator to Servalan, after being stranded on Terminal and losing Cally in the resulting explosions. For whatever unholy reason, despite the 5 different ways he was exhausted, Vila was awake and nursing some wine he found hidden away. The common area where he sat was dimly lit, a light over the bar providing a wash of observable path from the bar to the couch where Vila sat hunched, boring holes into the bottom of his glass. 

Cally’s last screams haunted him, he constantly berated himself for not trying harder to save her. His body silently shakes as tears run down his face. He’d lost too many friends in the last twenty or so years, he lets out a sarcastic laugh at a thought, how their lives were blinking stars fading and now he was left with the rest of the space junk. He raised the empty glass to his lips, the motion done on autopilot. Vila recounted the names and face of the loved ones he lost, and became so engrossed in reliving the memories he did not notice Avon walk in. 

Avon leaned against the bar, his facade of smug disinterest was worn like a death mask, as he quietly regarded the crying man. Avon felt some sadness for Vila, neither had been considered the other a friend, their previous companions would say that the computer expert bullied the thief into helping him achieve his goals frequently. Contrary to popular belief, however, Avon did have positive feelings for Vila, buried deep inside his cold selfish heart. For a few seconds he considered going over and comforting Vila. But what would he say? He was hard pressed for kindness on a good day, much less so in the current moment. 

‘Sorry you feel bad, at least you have me.’ Nope. 

‘At least you can trust me?’ What little trust there might be is not likely to last. 

His lack of vocabulary associated with empathy was painfully obvious here. Avon chewed on his lip, attempting to come up with a few comforting words as he watched Vila when the thief sniffled loudly.

“How long have you been there, Avon?” Vila’s voice was quiet and a little hoarse, he remained hunched over the table. His splattered tears collecting in spots, splashes of wine adding spots of pink, Vila’s finger tracing absent designs into the table. Avon shifted slightly, the sharp awareness from the man surprised him. It took seconds for him to move next to Vila. 

“Well?” Vila asked, not for the defense of his shame but genuine curiosity. He was surprised to see Avon outside his quarters and so far away from any computer. He drunkenly turned his head to look at his comrade. Avon looked just as exhausted as Vila did, his combed hair a heavy contrast to the unshaven face and wrinkled tunic. 

“Not too long.” Avon said softly, “I… couldn’t get back to sleep. I was wandering the corridors when I went to investigate a noise.” He glanced at the empty wine bottles sitting around. 

“Oh, how rude of me, let me get you a drink.” Vila perked up long enough to find a clean cup and a half full bottle of wine and poured a glass. He offered Avon the glass, who sat quietly and accepted the fragrant drink and paused before taking a drink,

“Shall we toast?” Avon attempted to sound as compassionate as possible, with only minor success, “A toast to the ones we’ve lost.” Vila was silent as he refilled his cup and raised it, gaze still downcast.

“To the Liberator, and her crew.” Avon could feel a lump starting in his throat. 

“The Liberator.” Vila murmured, taking a drink. There was a brief silence before Avon continued.

“To Gan, Blake, Jenna…” Avon’s voice caught in a sudden rush of emotions, “And Cally.”  
Avon’s eyes welled, and he brought the glass up and drank deeply. He blinked several times to try and prevent the tears from falling. Vila took long drinks from his cup, his emotions and grief out on display again. Tears resumed their path down Vila’s cheeks, Avon remained still after his drink, staring into the inky liquid. A single sob escapes Avon, his shoulders heaving. Avon sobbed, his guard finally allowed a moment to fall, making Vila the only man in the Galaxy to see him cry. Grief overtakes Avon so completely he didn’t notice Vila taking the cup from his hands and putting it onto the table. Vila moved himself closer to Avon, wrapping him into his arms as they cried together for some time.

Avon awoke suddenly, his head pounding and mouth dry. Odd, he couldn’t recall returning to his quarters after getting up for an evening walk. He turned his head, only to be confronted with… legs? 

“Vila?” Avon turned so he was looking upward at his companion, who was absolutely passed out. The wine must have been stronger than anticipated, judging by the severity of his hangover and waking up in the lap of Vila. He gets himself upright, and gives Vila’s shoulder a shake that brings him back around. 

“Avon! Wha-…” Vila slurred, Avon pulling on his arm to get him on his feet. 

“I’m getting us to bed, come on.” Avon’s voice was flat, tired, but his face wasn’t near as distant and cold as before, which was a nice change. Vila was in worse shape than Avon, having drank a multitude more, so Avon half carried half shuffled with Vila down the halls of the Xenon base to Avon’s quarters since it was closest. 

“Sometimes…” Vila struggled to pronounce the word, head bobbing from side to side, “Sometimes I used to think you could have been an android.” Vila was completely unaware of where they were, his voice loud. 

“Did you now? And your mind changed for some reason, I take it?” Avon didn’t look at Vila, whose full attention was on the other’s face. 

“Yes. And I don’t think you’re a robot, or that you actually detest me, like you want everyone to think.” Vila struggled to articulate properly, but Avon was fluent in drunk by now. Avon gritted his teeth at the volume of Vila, attempting to pick up the pace quickly pushed Vila into his quarters before closing the door behind them. Avon directed Vila to sit on a nearby chair as he poured them each some water with hydration tablets to fight the soon coming hangover for Vila. 

“All I’m saying Avon, is that…” Vila paused, like he lost his train of thought as he gazed at the water. Avon sat across from him, having taken the too warm over tunic off, he worked his boots off before sipping his water. There was silence for a few minutes as Vila gathered his thoughts.  
“I know deep down, in whatever dark corners of your heart, you cared for the Liberator and the people on it. Even Blake…” Vila could feel himself choking up again, but continuing, “Despite everything, I know you at least look out for me, because lockpicking only gets you so far. And I think I’m the only man in the galaxy to survive being your friend.” The last part stung Avon. But he was right.

“Finish drinking your water, you get my bed, I’ll be fine on this couch.” Avon said, standing to pluck a pillow off his bed. Vila sighed, but did as he was told. He was too tired and far too drunk to keep arguing. 

The room was dark, Avon and Vila on opposite sides of the room, Avon occupied with thinking about the plan for the possibilities of their new home, but Vila was wide awake. He had one more thing to say before this whole emotional openness is left in the past and ignored from here on. 

“Avon?” Vila hoped his friend was still awake. There was a long pause, “I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me and being a friend.” The room went quiet, before Vila sighed, assuming Avon was asleep.

“Vila, you’re welcome. Now for the love of everything, please let me sleep this hangover off.” Avon said after a considerable amount of time. Vila quickly succumbed to slumber with a slight smile, knowing he is safe around his friend, Kerr Avon.


End file.
